A Tale of Chester
by Glow1012
Summary: A stranger in town brings trouble for Chester.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I never met the Producers, the Directors, the Writers or the Cast. I don't mean to cause problems, nausea or muscle aches. Please don't sue me…I have no money and I won't do well in jail. I do not own any of these characters but it would be nice if I did. To avoid danger of suffocation, keep away from babies, cribs, and playpens.

A Tale of Chester

Chapter 1

Chester Goode leaned idly on the bar of the Long Branch saloon waiting for his beer. The barkeep, Clem, drew the beer slowly and set it down in front of him, then busied himself placing shots of whiskey on a tray to be delivered to customers at one of the tables. The condensation ran down the side of Chester's mug in rivulets and made small pools on the bar in front of him. The sharp smell of the cold beer wafted upward from the mug and made his mouth water.

"Clem, its just too early in the year to be sa dern hot. I wisht there was a breeze or somethin out there."

Chester mopped the sweat off his brow and then the back of his neck with his kerchief. He took a mouthful of the cold beer and smacked his lips approvingly. He debated whether to gulp it or make it last and since he was low on funds, the latter won out.

The stranger stood at the bat wing doors of the saloon and quickly sized up the room. At the table near the door was a dull poker game. From the hangdog expressions on all the players' faces, it was impossible to determine who was winning and who was losing. Mostly the tables in the room were filled with Dodge citizens drinking their beers and whiskey quietly. Although it was not yet the hottest part of the year and the room was not uncomfortable, it was warm enough to make the customers feel lazy.

The stranger lumbered over to the bar and ordered a whiskey, licking his dry lips as he ordered.

"Don't think I've seen ya around these parts before." Clem offered him a friendly smile and poured his drink.

"Whats it to ya?" He growled when he spoke.

Clem shrugged. "Ain't nothing to me, mister." He sat the glass down in front of the man and walked away to attend a customer at the other end of the bar.

The stranger shifted his considerable weight to the right side of his body and leaned against the bar so that he was facing Chester. He was a beast of a man, standing six feet ten inches tall. His girth was wide and he was proud of every one of 346 pounds. His eyes were obsidian and his black hair was disheveled, long and frizzy, not even slightly controlled by the rabbit skin cap he wore to one side. His curly black beard reached to the middle of his chest. The gamey and rancid odor of the buffalo skins he wore hung about him like a fog. His body was rubbed raw in patches, bitten by the fleas hiding in the skins. He downed his whiskey and indicated he wanted another.

"Gimme the bottle barkeep." The stranger laid his money on the bar.

Chester spared a glance to the man on his right, taking in his size and demeanor, and reflected on his interaction with Clem. "Clem didn't mean nothing. That's how we are in Dodge, friendly-like. You got no call to act like you're doin."

The stranger slammed his glass down and focused a dark look on Chester. "Who the hell are you talkin to?"

Chester took a gulp of his beer and stared into his glass. He regretted calling attention to himself. He really just wanted to drink his beer in peace. "Nobody I reckon."

The man drew himself up to his full height, looming over Chester's long and lanky frame. "That's right boy. You ain't talking to nobody. Nobody a-tall."

"My gracious, I ain't no boy." Chester chuckled nervously and straightened himself to his full height. He was six foot two inches tall and when facing most other people, his height would have been impressive but not compared to this stranger.

"You still talkin?" The stranger scowled and tossed back a glass of whiskey in one gulp.

Chester thought the man must be the singularly most sour person he had ever met. He turned his attention to his partially drank beer.

He lifted his head and stared straight ahead, watching the scene play out in the mirror. "No, I ain't still talkin."

The already quiet room had grown so silent Chester could hear his heartbeat and it was beating so hard he thought the stranger must be able to hear it, too. Beads of nervous sweat broke out on his scalp.

The stranger looked him up and down. He laughed heartily and for some time before taking his bottle and trudging to a table near the stairs. His laughter spread to the tables scattered about the saloon. Although the other customers had no idea what they were laughing at, they thought it was a good idea not to let the big man laugh alone.

Clem drew another beer and slid it down the bar to Chester, who stood alone, staring unseeingly into his glass. He looked up into Clem's friendly face.

"No thank ya Clem. I got to get back to the jail." Embarrassed and with his spirits dampened, he turned and disappeared through the bat wing doors, unable to escape the laughter ringing in his ears as he moved as quickly as he could toward the jail where he would spend the night.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A Tale of Chester

Chapter 2

After spending the night on the cot in the jail, Chester woke to find Matt packing.

"Where ya goin, Mister Dillon?" Chester rubbed the sleep from his eyes and struggled to pull his pants on over his red union suit. "I'll make some coffee." He yawned.

Matt tightened the strings on his bedroll and responded without glancing Chester's way. "I don't have time for coffee, Chester. I've got to go after the Blackwood Gang. I got a telegram before you woke up this morning. I guess you had a big night last night, you were sleeping like the dead."

Chester shook his head to clear the remnants of sleep and made his way to the stove, stoking it with wood that lay in the box next to it. The smell of burning wood filled the room and the Marshal's office felt homey.

"Well, it wasn't a good night Mister Dillon. Not for me."

Matt looked up from his packing. "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing really happened." Chester opened the lid of the coffee pot and inspected the pot's interior closely. He didn't want Mister Dillon to see the emotions that played across his face. He realized that it had only been people laughing, nothing more but he felt a little afraid – the man had been so big and he felt threatened but, by his own admission nothing had really happened.

He set the coffee pot on the stove and then walked over to Matt's desk, and absently rifled through the wanted posters. Walking to the front of the desk, he rested his hips against it. He was embarrassed about having been laughed at the night before and he wasn't sure he wanted Mister Dillon to know about it but he wasn't sure it was right to keep it a secret from his friend and boss.

"Did you hear me, Chester?" Matt was annoyed. He was in a hurry and trying to give instructions to his assistant, who seemed a million miles away.

"Sure Mister Dillon. You said you'd be back in a few days. I'll take care of things while you're gone."

Matt nodded goodbye, gathered his things and left. Chester watched through the window as Matt mounted the big buckskin and headed out of town. He sat down behind the Marshal's desk and began to rummage through the drawers as Doc came through the doorway, sniffing the air for the aroma of coffee. The coffee smelled strong and that was acceptable to Doc so he sat down in the chair that had been pulled up to the desk. He pulled out a toothpick and began to pick his teeth.

"Where's Matt?" Doc looked like he had just woken up. His clothes were rumpled and his eyes were puffy from sleep. His hat sat at a peculiar angle on his head.

"Well, good morning to you, too, Doc." Chester felt a little hurt that Doc hadn't even acknowledged him. On top of feeling ill at ease over the night before, the oversight stung a bit.

"Good morning Chester. Where's Matt?" Doc crossed his left leg over his right one and leaned back in the chair. He had a lot on his mind this morning. He was going to have a full day and all he really wanted was some coffee and breakfast with a little companionship before he had to be on his way out of town. He was too preoccupied to pay much attention to Chester's feelings.

"He left just a little bit ago. Had to track somebody. He'll be back in a few days."

Doc scowled and twirled the toothpick. "So you're just gonna sit around here all day?"

He was successful in flustering Chester who responded defensively. "Well, no, Doc, I'm ain't just sittin around. Mister Dillon left me with things to do. I just made some coffee but I reckon you know that. That's probly why you're here, for the free coffee."

In spite of his hurt feelings, Chester got up and poured a cup of the concoction for himself and one for the older man. He didn't want Doc to be his usual cranky self, he needed a friend this morning.

"Thank you, Chester." Doc tasted the coffee and immediately spit it out. "What're ya tryin to do? Kill me? Oh good heavens! That's the worst stuff I've ever tasted! That's lethal! Well, that's just terrible coffee, even for you! If you drink that, there is not an antidote known to medical science that could help you!"

Chester was highly offended and raised his voice. "Well no one's makin ya drink it!"

He took a gulp of the coffee and wished he hadn't. He sheepishly glanced at Doc. "That's pretty bad coffee, ain't it Doc?"

Doc stood and assessed Chester's state of mind and grumbled, "Come on. I'll buy ya breakfast and we'll get some real coffee. You can tell me what happened in the Long Branch last night."

It was unlike Doc to offer to buy breakfast and Chester was suspicious but not enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Whattya mean what happened in the Long Branch last night?"

Doc dropped his toothpick into the trashcan near the stove. "I saw Clem late last night and he said you had kinda rough evening. I wanna know what happened."

Chester was irritated and could feel his face flush. Why were people talking about that? "Then why didn't you ask Clem?"

"Because I'm askin you. Now are you gonna tell me or aren't you?"

"Alright. I'll tell ya. Over breakfast though and you're buying."

Doc agreed and they made their way to Delmonico's.

"So ya see, Doc, it wasn't anything. Just some stranger a-actin silly." Chester used the corner of his toast to sop up his some of his egg yolk. He didn't feel as light as he made himself sound but he didn't want anyone, least of all Doc, to realize he was unnerved by the night's events..

Doc wiped his mouth with the napkin and inhaled deeply. "You don't seem any the worse for wear." He folded his napkin and laid it in his plate.

"I've enjoyed as much of this as I can stand and I'm due at the Bennett's. Laura's father broke his leg and I promised I'd ride out there and check on him. Her, too, since she's expecting her first baby and she's been awful sick. Her husband has his hands full, I tell ya" Doc stood up.

"Well, see ya later, Doc."

"See ya later, Chester."

The physician excused himself and left Chester sitting alone to finish his breakfast. Chester didn't really want to sit alone, he felt conspicuous at the table by himself. He watched as Doc met up with Joe to pay for breakfast and he realized, when Doc handed Joe only a few coins, that Doc had not paid for his breakfast after all. He sighed heavily at enduring such an indignity from a friend.

Chester saw the mammoth as soon as he entered Delmonico's but the big man didn't appear to notice him. The giant ordered coffee, eggs, pancakes, ham, steak, and biscuits. Chester hadn't seen anyone other than Matt Dillon eat a breakfast of that size and he was transfixed. The stranger happened to look up and see Chester watching him. He glared and menacingly jumped in his seat, as if to lunge at Chester who jumped out of his chair, knocking it to the floor with a clatter. All the customers turned to look as the lanky man awkwardly picked himself and his chair up off the floor. The giant laughed and shook his head in disgust. Chester's face burned crimson as he bowed and scraped and apologized while moving quickly toward the door. The stranger gave another belly laugh and soon the other patrons joined in, amused at the site of the gentle man trying awkwardly to escape his embarrassment.

"Joe, I'll settle up with ya later." Chester fled Delmonico's as quickly as he could, now hearing the laughter ringing in his ears. How could this happen again? He raced to the jail and slammed the front door shut, falling back against it and gasping for breath.

Later in the day, Chester returned to Delmonico's to pay his bill. The smell of today's dinner special, fried pork chops, hung in the air and made his stomach grumble in appreciation. Joe was happy to see him.

"Sorry about what happened this morning, Chester." Joe was balancing some plates in his arms, carrying them to a nearby table.

Chester frowned and looked furtively around the room, making sure no one who witnessed his morning humiliation was still present. "Just tell me how much I owe ya, Joe."

"That'll be $4.25." Joe set the plates down and the diners murmured their appreciation.

Chester's mouth fell open. "That cain't be right, Joe. I just had a cup a coffee, some bacon, some toast, and an egg. That's usually eighty-five cents."

"Well, Chester, that amount includes your friend's breakfast."

"My friend? What friend?" Chester took his hat off and rubbed the back of his neck. He knew Doc had paid for his own breakfast, even if he hadn't paid for Chester's. He was genuinely confused.

Joe wiped his hands on the apron he wore. "You know, the big fella. He had pancakes, eggs, ham, steak, biscuits and coffee. He said he was your good friend and you were buyin his breakfast."

Chester felt his face redden in anger. He snapped at the waiter. "He ain't my friend and I ain't a-buyin his breakfast."

Joe folded his arms across his chest and returned an equally snappish reply. "I don't care whether he's your friend or not but if you don't pay for his breakfast, I'm gonna be out the money and I ain't gonna have that. If I don't get paid for his breakfast, I'm not gonna let you come back here anymore."

Chester knew it was wrong but he felt sorry for Joe getting stuck for the bill that way and he certainly didn't want to be banned from Delmonico's. He paid both breakfast bills but grumbled to Joe, "I ain't a-payin for no more meals for him. If he says I am, he's lyin."

Joe nodded and Chester did his best to stomp out of the cafe. He stomped over to the Long Branch. He deserved a drink and he felt the need to talk to Miss Kitty. She was a good listener and gave good advice. He could use two things, a drink and some good advice.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A Tale of Chester

Chapter 3

Shortly before noon, the stranger arrived at the Long Branch for the second time. The smell of stale beer and smoke met him at the door as he again sized up the room before he entered. The saloon was busy but not full. Clem and Kitty were laughing at the bar but Clem's laughter stopped as soon as he saw the big man. The giant approached the bar and, although Kitty was used to the smells of the Long Branch, the sweaty, rancid smell of the stranger made her wrinkle her nose.

"Ma'am." He nodded to her.

She smiled and nodded in return. Clem retrieved a bottle of whiskey for the man who laid his money on the bar and then made his way to the table near the stairs. Kitty watched him walk away.

"That the one?" She raised her eyebrows in question.

"That's him, Miss Kitty. He's the one that had them all laughing at Chester last night. Chester was mighty upset. I don't think he knew what to make of it."

"I'll take care of it, Clem." She took a glass from behind the bar and made her way to the stranger's table. Her green dress caught the light and sparkled and she looked as though she could have been in a painting.

"Buy me a drink?" She held out her empty glass and gave the stranger a charming smile, one that she knew he wouldn't refuse.

"I'd be honored ma'am." He stood and pulled out a chair for her and she seated herself, offering her glass for some of the amber liquid that he happily poured for her. Kitty was caught off guard by the gentlemanly display of manners that was so incongruous with his appearance.

"I don't think I've seen you around Dodge before, have I?" She swirled the whiskey gently in the glass and he watched, mesmerized.

He inhaled the lavender scent of her and thought, in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to know her.

"No ma'am. Never been to Dodge before." He downed his glass of spirits and poured himself another.

"I'm not a ma'am, that's for married women. I'm Kitty. I own this saloon." She smiled again, charming and inviting.

He smiled broadly, showing crooked teeth, brown from nicotine use. "I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Kitty. I'm Cleon Harvey. I been down in the Nations for the past year, huntin the buffaloes."

"You gonna be in Dodge for long?"

"I dunno. It seems like a nice town but I don't stay no where for long. I get….I have to move on. Ya know?"

She sipped a small bit of her whiskey and tried to keep from making a face at the burn in her throat. "I think I do." She paused for a moment. "Tell me about yourself, where ya from?"

He looked away from her, watching Clem behind the bar. "I'm from westa here."

She rested her elbows on the table and put her chin on her palm, appearing utterly engrossed in the conversation, and thought that if Cleon didn't have a bit more to say, this was going to take a while. She sighed, closed her eyes and slowly reopened them. "Do you have a family?"

He focused his black eyes on her and scrutinized her face to try to determine what she was thinking. He thought she seemed kind and friendly. He gulped a shot of whiskey, then poured another. "I had a ma and a pa, older brother, too. Lived on a farm."

Kitty felt encouraged. "Must have been nice growing up on a farm, working with your family."

Cleon's face turned red all the way down his neck. Droplets of whiskey clung to his beard and sparkled like diamonds in the light. His voice dropped to slightly above a whisper. "No, Miss Kitty, it weren't nice. It weren't nice a-tall."

"Oh?" Kitty wondered if she was going to regret this conversation. She rested her forearms on the table and leaned closer to better hear him. She could smell the whiskey on his hot breath.

She caught Clem's eye and indicated he should bring another bottle to the table. Cleon looked at her questioningly. "This one's on the house."

"Thank ya Miss Kitty." He smiled gratefully and nodded. "My pa, he's a mean un, my brother too. Mean uns. Both of em, mean as a acre of snakes. My ma, she tried to teach em both how to act, specially around ladies but they wouldn't learn nuthin so she taught me. She said ya never know when ya might meet a real lady and ya should know how to treat her."

He took a breath, watching for signs that Kitty might be fooling with him, feigning interest to make a fool of him, but she wasn't. She was listening to him, something no woman since his mother had done. He took a swig and then poured himself another drink. He reached to refresh Kitty's nearly full glass but she held her hand over the top to block him. He shrugged and continued to talk.

"My pa, he had a two by four left from when they fixed the barn. When he thought I's bad, he'd beat me with it. That was most ever day. Never beat my brother though. If I didn't say my prayers or if he thought I looked at him funny... I never did look at him funny, though. He thought I did but I never did. Once when we's pickin the crops, I missed an ear of corn. He beat me with that wood till I couldn't do nothing but lay on the ground. Couldn't even cry. When the old hound had puppies – I's about six - I took care of em for weeks. When theys big enough to play with, pa took me down to the creek and made me drown ever last one a them puppies. I cried and he held me under the water till I thought I was gonna explode. My brother was there and he just laughed and laughed, like it was funny, me drownin those puppies and getting almost drowned myself. It weren't funny Miss Kitty. It weren't funny a-tall."

Sadness washed over her and Kitty rested her fingertips on his right hand. His eyes met hers as she spoke and she could see the pain there. "No, Cleon, it wasn't funny."

He nodded, feeling tears pool in his eyes. "There was other times like that. Beatins, tellin me how stupid I am. Big and stupid. A dumb oaf, that's what he said. I ain't stupid. He would say, 'boy, you's a big, dumb oaf.' He said terrible things Miss Kitty. Did terrible things, too. I cain't read or do figures but I ain't stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid Cleon. I think you were wronged."

He hung his head and turned the empty glass around in his hands. "They wronged me."

He wanted to hug Miss Kitty, hold her to him and smell the lavender in her hair, feel the warm softness of her body but he was confused. Why was she being nice to him? Would she make fun of him? Laugh at him for being stupid and ugly? He thought about that for a moment and then decided she wouldn't. She was kind and gentle. She was his friend.

"You know, Cleon, that man in here last night, the one you laughed at. His name is Chester and he's a friend of mine. What made you laugh at him like that?"

Cleon shrugged. "He's funny's all. He's just a little guy, trying to pick a fight with me...just funny."

He noticed the way Kitty's blue eyes clouded over. He drummed his fingers on the table and watched her closely. Was she mad? Was she going to try to pick a fight with him now? Was she going to call him names?

"The way I heard it, he wasn't tryin to pick a fight with you. He was just talkin. Chester's not a fighter, Cleon." Her tone was gentle but firm she looked him right in the eye as she spoke.

He poured another glass of whiskey and downed it in one motion. It was hard for him to talk about his life. He didn't know why he was telling her these things other than she was pretty and she seemed to want to know.

"Miss Kitty, I been around enough to know when a man wants to fight, a woman, too, for that matter."

He pulled out a pouch of tobacco and began to roll a cigarette. He offered it to Kitty and she declined so he lit up and took a drag, inhaling deeply. She took a sip of her whiskey and made a face as it fought its way down her throat. She didn't like the cheap stuff and Cleon's last statement made her a little nervous. He was a big man.

"Do you think I'm tryin to pick a fight with you?"

"Oh no Miss Kitty. I just knows there's some women who likes to fight. I don't fight with women but I can tell when they're tryin to fight with me. Not you though. You's nice and sweet, like a lady should be."

She choked and coughed, sloshing the whiskey in her glass. She didn't want him to think she was laughing at him but she didn't think of herself as nice and sweet and she wondered if anyone, outside of her Dodge family, did think of her that way. There were plenty of times when she was nice and sweet, plenty of times when she let show how much she cared about the people of Dodge but those times were usually private moments among friends or gifts given anonymously. Her public persona had to be tough to keep the unruly saloon patrons in line. She set her glass on the table and ran a nicely manicured nail around the rim. She looked into his eyes.

"You know Cleon, we're a small town and most everyone here knows everyone else. Mostly we all get along." She chose her words carefully, lest he think she was picking a fight with him.

Cleon poured another shot and gulped his whiskey, enjoying the burn as he swallowed. He nodded. "I understand. I just wanna get along too." He flicked his cigarette ash on the floor, then took another drag. The wisps of smoke curled around his head leaving his rabbit-skin hat in a haze.

Kitty gave him a sweet smile and patted his arm as she stood. "Well good. I think we understand each other."

Cleon nodded eagerly and rose politely as Kitty stood. She marveled at his manners. His mama had taught him well.

"Miss Kitty, can I buy you dinner some time?"

She shook her head but smiled so warmly that it took away the sting of her answer. "I'm sorry Cleon but I don't go to dinner with customers. Its bad business."

"I understand but if ya change your mind..."

He watched her walk away from the table, back to the bar. Her dress made a swishing sound as she walked and she moved so gracefully, he thought she must be floating on air. Cleon sat down heavily in his chair and poured another shot of whiskey. He held it under his nose and inhaled. It was sharp and pungent and he gulped it down, eager to feel the familiar hum of his body – the hum that would replace the pain of his memories. That Miss Kitty sure was nice. He would have to watch out for her and make sure no one bothered her.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A Tale of Chester

Chapter 4

Later that afternoon found Kitty sitting at a table in the back of the saloon, working on her books and enjoying the quiet before the evening crowd found their way to the bar. She paused to enjoy the peacefulness of the moment. Outside, birds were chirping, there was a buggy driving past the saloon, and children were playing in the street. Inside, Clem was wiping glasses to prepare for the transition from afternoon to evening crowd when Chester pounded through the bat wing doors.

"Chester, what in the world are you doing, stomping around like that?" She was startled by his forceful entrance but still happy to see her friend.

"Oh Miss Kitty, I'm sa mad!" He threw himself into a chair at her table, jostling the table and ruffling Kitty's feathers.

"Chester! What on earth is wrong with you?" She was concerned as this behavior was not like him at all. "Clem, bring Chester a beer. Bring me one, too."

"Miss Kitty, that's real nice of you but I don't think I can even drink a beer right now. He's awful. Awful is what he is."

Kitty motioned for Clem to bring the beer anyway. "Who's awful, Chester?"

She had never seen him in such a state, so contrary to his even personality and gentle disposition. He shifted in his chair, barely able to contain his anger.

"That giant fella. He's after me. Do you know what he did?"

Clem set the beer on the table and looked questioningly at Kitty. She shrugged and shook her head at Clem. She rested her hand on Chester's forearm.

"No, I don't know. Tell me." Her voice was soft and affectionate.

Before he could answer her, Doc came through the bat wing doors and spotted his friends at the table in the back. He headed toward them, signaling Clem to bring him a beer.

Kitty was genuinely pleased to see him. "Join us, Doc."

"I'm going to and I believe Clem is bringing me a beer." As he said that, Clem approached with a cold one. Doc took a seat at the table and savored the first taste of his beer, then removed his glasses and began to clean them on the black vest he wore.

Kitty smiled fondly at the two men who meant so much to her and gently squeezed Chester's arm, encouraging him to speak. "Doc, Chester was just about to tell me why he's so upset."

The old physician groused. "Could be any number of reasons. Maybe he drank too much of his own bad coffee."

Chester made a face but tried not to let on how much it hurt that his friend dismissed his feeling so quickly. In spite of his sensitivity, he told them what had happened – last night in the Long Branch and this morning in Delmonico's. Paying the huge man's breakfast bill was the last straw. Chester's face was red, he was sweating, and his hands were trembling.

"I'm so sorry you had a run-in with Cleon Harvey. You're right, he is a big man." Kitty nodded, remembering her conversation with the buffalo hunter and thinking how mannerly he had been with her.

"Who?" This was the first time Chester had heard the man's name. "Is that his name, Miss Kitty? Sounds like a right mean name, don't it?"

Kitty rubbed the palms of her hands on the navy blue skirt she wore. Her palms were cool and moist from the condensation on her beer mug. She looked to Doc for support.

"I don't know if its a mean name, Chester, its just a name." Doc breathed on his glasses to assist in cleaning them. "You know his name, Kitty, do you know him?"

"Well, no. I talked to him for a while. He told me some things about himself. I guess it would be all right if I told you..." She had no loyalty to Cleon Harvey so she shared the stories he had told her.

They sat quietly for a moment, then Chester spoke. "That's just terrible, Miss Kitty. You'd think if someone treated you that way, you wouldn't want to make somebody else feel bad."

As he spoke, Chester tapped his left index finger on the table and his left leg bounced up and down. Doc recognized that as a sign of anxiety and he thought Chester was having a strong reaction to being teased.

"Well, whenever I've seen children misbehave, I've always said that if you follow a young jackass home you'll find an older jackass. Cleon proves that rule. He and his father both are jackasses." Doc harrumphed and replaced his glasses on his head, easing the arms of the glasses slowly over each ear. He sipped his beer and some of the foam clung to his mustache.

"What am I gonna do, Doc? Miss Kitty?" Chester looked helplessly from one friend to the other.

Kitty reached out and put her right hand on top of Chester's left one to still the movement. She glanced at Doc for help, surprised that Chester's reaction was so strong.

Doc swiped his mustache, removing the foam that clung there, then grasped the handle of the beer mug. He squeezed the handle of the mug, then let go and repeated the action several times. Chester's agitation was making him nervous.

"Well, Chester, I don't know why you have to do anything. Its true you had to pay for his breakfast but other than that, he hasn't done anything except laugh at you. That might be embarrassing but it's not gonna hurt you" Doc took another drink of beer.

"You don't understand. He's ruinin everything. I been laughed at since the war because a my limp. Dodge is the only place where no one laughs at me, that's why it's my home. Now he's here, and everyone is laughin, it don't feel like home no more. It's like he's tryin to take that away from me. I got to do somethin about that." Chester's voice was pleading for them to understand but they didn't.

"Doc, Miss Kitty...ya don't believe me, do ya?" His heart was breaking.

Doc tugged on his ear and inclined his head toward Chester. "Its not that I don't believe you, I just think you're making too big a fuss about this thing. How long has it been since you had a real good night's sleep?"

Chester pointed his finger emphatically at Doc. "Now Doc, don't start that, I'm tellin ya, don't start that. This is real, what he's doin to me." His eyes searched those of his friends, looking for a spark that would indicate they believed him

Doc and Kitty exchanged glances. Maybe there was more to Chester's story than they knew.

"See, I been down this road before..." Chester took a couple of swigs of his beer. If he was going to tell this, he needed some liquid courage. "After the war, I was in Missoura, thinkin I might stay there. St. Louis. I went into this saloon, the Crystal Palace. It wasn't no fine place and I thought I'd just go have a beer. I went in and right away the barkeep says 'we don't serve no cripples in here." I didn't know who he was a-talkin to so I went up to the bar and asked for a beer. He said, 'didn't ya hear me? We don't serve no cripples in here.' I couldn't believe it!"

Chester paused and drank the rest of his beer in one gulp. Kitty motioned for Clem to bring him another. Her friend was obviously in distress.

"Then a fella standin at the bar says to the barkeep, 'you want I should throw him outta here?' I told em that I was hurt in the war, that I ain't no cripple. They laughed at me and said it don't matter how I got crippled, fact is I'm crippled. Then the fella standin at the bar grabbed my shirt and my pants and threw me out in the street. Just threw me out, like I was nothin."

Chester could feel the tears starting behind his eyes but he swallowed hard and stared at the wall in front of him to collect himself. He had never told anyone about this. Kitty and Doc ached for his pain.

"Chester..." Kitty spoke softly.

"No, now wait, Miss Kitty. It happened agin and agin. Not just in St. Louis either. It happened other places. Kids a-makin fun a me on the street, girls a-sayin they couldn't go to a dance with me because they don't wanna dance with no cripple. They don't believe I can dance and they wanna dance, they don't wanna go for no moonlight stroll. You don't know what I been through. You just don't know."

Kitty squeezed his hand. "I didn't know about any of this, Chester. How come you never told us before?"

Chester still couldn't meet her eyes, no matter how kind she was.

"Its downright embarrassing, Miss Kitty. Made me feel like I wasn't a man. Not a real man."

Now it was Kitty's turn to tear up. Doc sat silently, absorbing what Chester had just shared, intimate secrets from his past.

"Well, Chester, Dodge isn't any of those places. No one here has treated you badly, have they? Just ignore this Harvey fella."

Kitty bit her right index finger, in thought. "You know Chester, Doc could be right. It may make things worse if you say anything to him. I'm sure he'll get tired and stop."

Chester stood up angrily. "You don't understand a-tall! He's takin my home away from me! Somebody oughta open him up and fill him fulla dirt!"

He left the Long Branch feeling he had received neither support nor understanding from his friends and he didn't know how to convey his sense of betrayal. Dodge had been a safe place for him and it no longer felt that way. He wanted to cry but he couldn't, someone might see him and that would make things worse.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

A Tale of Chester

Chapter 5

That night, the Long Branch was busy. Kitty made her way to the bar, greeting customers as she went. She was relieved the saloon was bustling, money in her pocket always made her smile. If the Long Branch stayed this busy every night, she might break even once she paid for the damages caused by the cowboys and drovers this time every year. Fights were not uncommon with so many strangers in town.

She was so busy delivering drinks to the customers she didn't notice Chester come in and make a place for himself at the end of the bar nearest the door. Cleon didn't notice him either, so busy with his bottle was he.

Kitty returned to the bar with an empty tray, leaving happy customers in her wake.

"Clem, we haven't been this busy in quite a spell. It's nice, isn't it?" She smiled and rubbed her right shoulder, tired from carrying trays for most of the night.

The barkeep smiled widely at her in return. "Yes ma'am, Miss Kitty, there's some goings on in here!" He was always happy when his boss was happy.

A cowboy standing at the bar looked her up and down, enjoying the view.

"Hey, pretty, I can think of a way to keep you even busier tonight." He leered at her.

Kitty got her dander up pretty quickly. "Texas, I'm busy enough. If you want a drink, place your order with Clem." She turned her back to him, waiting for Clem to fill another tray.

"I got an order that old man can't fill." He grabbed her arm to turn her to face him.

She jerked her arm away from him. "Keep your hands off me!"

Chester alerted at the end of the bar. "Miss Kitty? You alright?"

She nodded at her friend. "I'm fine, Chester. He's nothing I can't handle."

The cowboy wouldn't take no for an answer. "Thats right honey, you can handle me just fine."

"Look, mister..." Before she could finish, Chester was at her side.

"Mister, she's tryin to be nice but she don't want you a-botherin her. Now why don't you just go on and have your drinks and leave her alone." Chester stepped between Kitty and the cowboy.

The cowboy looked him over. Chester was lanky but he was a good four inches taller than the cowboy. The cowboy could see in Chester's face that he was determined Miss Kitty shouldn't be bothered. The cowboy raised both his hands in the air and took a step back from Kitty.

"I ain't lookin for no trouble here. I'm jes tryin to have a good time." He looked from Chester to Kitty.

"Well you better go have a good time somewheres else." Chester took a protective step closer to the saloon owner.

The cowboy tipped his hat and left. Some bystanders who had noticed the exchange whispered to one another about what had just happened. As these things do, the story changed somewhat from person to person and by the time it got to Cleon, it had changed significantly. He looked up in time to see Chester remove his hand from Kitty's back. As Chester returned to his spot at the end of the bar to drink his beer, Cleon bolted from his chair and rushed to Kitty's side.

"Miss Kitty, who's botherin you?" The giant's voice rumbled when he spoke.

She smiled warmly at Cleon. "No one, Cleon, its all taken care of." She smiled again and nodded at Chester but her gesture of appreciation was misinterpreted.

Before Kitty could stop him, Cleon had barged over to Chester and grabbed him by the shirt collar. His voice was thunderous, beginning as a low growl in his belly and ending in a roar.

"What're you doin, gimp? You stay away from that woman!" Fast as lightning, he backhanded Chester. Chester stumbled against the bar.

"No! Cleon, don't!" Kitty angrily rushed to Chester's side. "You don't understand!"

"Oh I understand Miss Kitty! He roughed you up! I'm gonna kill em!"

The big man grabbed Chester's shirt collar and Chester struggled under Cleon's grasp. Kitty grabbed Cleon's arm, trying to free her friend. Using Chester's collar, Cleon pulled him close to his face and then roughly shoved him backward into the crowd of men at the bar.

Chester righted himself and flew at Cleon, fists at the ready. The big man grabbed Chester's right arm and twisted it behind his back. When Chester cried out, the giant raised his arm higher behind his back.

"I said stop it!" Kitty squeezed Cleon's arm tighter. "He didn't hurt me! Let go of him!" Kitty gave Cleon a hard kick in his shin.

Startled, Cleon released his hold on the Marshal's assistant. Chester moved quickly away from the big man and rubbed his arm. Cleon looked at Kitty, amazed.

"Miss Kitty, what'd ya do that for?" His mouth flew open and his eyes were wide with surprise.

"I tried to tell you, Cleon. Chester didn't hurt me, he helped me!" Kitty had put up with just about enough trouble for one night. "This has to stop right now!"

Cleon removed the rabbit hat that sat cock-eyed on his head and held it to his chest in contrition. "I'm shore sorry, Miss Kitty. I didn't know this boy was helpin ya."

Chester straightened his back and squared his shoulders. "I'm tellin ya, I ain't no boy!" His voice was loud and shrill and drew laughter from the big man and the crowd.

"You're right Chester! You ain't no boy, you sound more like a girl!" That came from one of the townsmen and resulted in peals of laughter.

"You're just funny is what you are." Chester angrily laid his beer money on the bar and left, once again the laughter ringing in his ears.

Kitty took control of the scene. "Alright everyone, the show's over. Get back to what you were doin."

She glared at the big man but he looked so humble that she forgave him his misstep. "Look, Cleon, I know you meant well but I don't need your help. I've been handling trouble in this place for a lotta years and I can handle it now. Go finish your drink and don't start anything."

He quietly returned to his table and his near-empty bottle of whiskey. Kitty returned to delivering trays of drinks but kept an eye on him. When most of the customers had drinks in front of them, Kitty grabbed a bottle of rye and made her way to the table near the stairs where the big man sat, chagrined.

"Mind if I join ya?" Her feet were tired and she wanted to sit for a few minutes. She also felt the need to talk about Chester.

Cleon looked up hopefully. "Yes, Miss Kitty, please join me." He hopped up and held her chair for her.

Kitty's deep blue dress, low cut and off the shoulder, made a soft rustling sound as she gathered it up so she could sit comfortably. The Long Branch was warm again tonight but the air was moving so it was comfortable. Cleon was sweating under the burden of the skins he wore and so the table where Kitty sat smelled of rye whiskey, sweat, and rancid hides. She offered him the bottle she had brought with her.

"For me?" Cleon was grateful but confused. She had been so angry, why would she bring him a gift? That was what friends did and she had made it clear to him when she kicked him that they weren't friends.

Kitty nodded and folded her hands on the table in front of her. "Yes, its for you. A peace gift."

Now he thought he understood. She wanted to be friends again. "Thank ya Miss Kitty. Ya don't have to give me nuthin."

She offered a soft smile. "I know you were tryin to help me, Cleon, but the thing is...you don't have to protect me from Chester. You don't have to protect me from anybody. I've been takin care of myself for a long time."

He took a swig from the bottle. Since Kitty wasn't drinking, there was no need to use a glass. "I made up my mind that nobody can't hurt ya without answerin to me. They said," he gestured toward the other customers, "that he was hurtin ya."

"No, he didn't hurt me. I don't want to hear anymore about it. He's my friend. I want you to stop treatin him so badly." Her voice was firm, no-nonsense and although she was seated, she placed her hands on her hips for emphasis.

"I don't treat him wrong. He's just always tryin to pick a fight with me. I ain't gonna let no boy strike up no trouble with me." He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and hiccuped, his breath sour from drinking.

"Cleon, I'm not going to argue with you! Chester is my friend and he's a nice man! He doesn't want to fight you or anyone else! Leave him alone!" Kitty was angry again and left the table abruptly, leaving a confused Cleon in her aftermath.

The big man continued to drink until the saloon closed but he had no further interaction with Kitty that night. He was furious that the man with the limp had caused him to lose Miss Kitty's friendship. Something would have to be done about that.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

A Tale of Chester

Chapter 6

The next morning found Chester sitting alone at Delmonico's. He had wanted a quiet beer last night but it had turned into an ugly scene. He was in a foul mood and, for once, was grateful to eat alone. Several diners who had been in the Long Branch when the dust up occurred now surreptitiously watched him as he quietly ate his eggs. He ignored them.

Having finished his breakfast, he placed his money on the table and stood to leave. Doc entered the restaurant and spotted his friend.

"Mornin' Chester." Doc sounded unusually upbeat and happy to see the Marshal's assistant. "It's a fine day. Sit down and have some breakfast with me."

Chester searched Doc's face, not sure what he was looking for but hoping to find some sign to account for Doc's chipper mood. "No thank ya Doc. I already ate."

"Well, then have some coffee with me. I don't want to eat alone." Doc took a seat at the table and gestured to Chester to take the other chair.

Chester rubbed the back of his neck. "I said no thank ya, Doc. I meant it. Now I got to be goin. Mister Dillon left me some things to take care of and I got to get em done."

Doc nodded at Joe to bring both he and Chester some coffee. "Oh, sit down Chester. Whatever Matt left for you will wait long enough for you to have a cup of coffee. Just sit down, would ya?"

Doc's good mood seemed to have vanished. Chester glared at him, still raw from his regrettable conversation with Doc and Kitty the day before.

He leaned over and put his hands on the table, palms down. "No, Doc, I ain't gonna sit down. I got things to do." His voice was louder and more emphatic than he intended but he made his point.

"Well, go on then!" Doc snapped at him and grabbed the cup of coffee Joe sat on the table. "I don't know what you have to do that's so dad blame important that you can't drink a cup a coffee but go on!"

Chester grabbed his hat that was hanging on the peg by the door and fled the restaurant. He was frustrated, angry, and muttering to himself that the only decent thing about this day was that the sun was out and there was a cool breeze blowing down Front Street. Feeling as though he was alone in the world, he was walking quickly with his head down, inattentive to his surroundings and he walked directly into Cleon Harvey.

"Watch where yer goin gimp!" Cleon gave him a hard shove.

Chester stumbled backwards, falling off the boardwalk and into the horse trough that was next to the boardwalk. A crowd of laughing onlookers gathered and Cleon was chief among those having a guffaw at his expense. Chester came up from the dirty water, sputtering and spitting. And mad as a wet hen.

Hearing the commotion, Kitty, Clem, and the morning customers of the Long Branch spilled into the street to see the brouhaha for themselves. They were in time to see Chester sit upright in the trough, water streaming from his hair, his face, and his clothes and in time to hear him utter several choice words. They saw the man tower menacingly over him. Doc, who had left Delmonico's upon hearing the commotion, hurried over to help Chester out of the trough.

Climbing out of the trough, the sodden man was mad enough to chew nails. He flew at Cleon, his right fist aimed at Cleon's chin. Cleon raised his left hand and easily blocked the punch, twisting Chester's arm behind his back and dunking his head in the trough.

Cleon jerked Chester's head out of the water. "Give up yet, boy?"

Chester relaxed slightly and acquiesced. "I give up all right."

Cleon released Chester's arm and Chester took a step away, spun around and landed a punch to Cleon's stomach. Chester put all his might behind the punch and it knocked the breath out of the big man. Collecting himself, Cleon swung at Chester's jaw. The punch connected and Chester reeled backward, catching himself before he landed back in the trough. Chester grabbed Cleon's arm and twisted it hard, throwing the big man off balance enough that Chester could connect a punch to Cleon's left jaw. The mammoth shook his head to ward off the ringing that started in his ears. He landed a blow to Chester's stomach and Chester doubled over in pain. Cleon pushed him away and Chester took a few steps back so he had a moment to breathe.

The crowd grew and they began making bets, most of them favoring the giant. Clem approached Kitty.

"Miss Kitty, I'd like to make a bet."

Out of allegiance to her friend, she didn't hesitate. "That'd be fine, Clem. Put $10 on Chester for me."

Doc reached into his pocket. "Gimme $10 on Chester, too, Clem!"

Clem flashed a huge smile. "I'm putting $5 on him myself." He took their money and went off to place the bets.

Meanwhile, Chester rushed at Cleon, fists flailing. In an attempt to halt Chester's assault, Cleon wrapped him in a bear hug and they fell together onto the ground, rolling in the dirt and dust. Squirming and wriggling and throwing punches, they each tried to break free from the other. There were grunts and groans and the crowd cheered and called out encouragement, some for Chester and some for Cleon.

Kitty grabbed Doc's arm. "Somebody better stop them. One of em's gonna get hurt and I'm afraid its gonna be Chester."

Doc patted her hand that rested on his arm. "Kitty, Chester needs this. He's defending himself."

Cleon put his hand on Chester's face to push him away and Chester bit down on the fleshy part of the big man's palm until it bled. Cleon yelped in pain and landed a jab that split Chester's lip. In a fit of rage, Chester gained momentum and rolled the giant onto his back. He straddled him, Cleon's arms pinned under Chester's legs, Chester's stiff right leg extended. Cleon used his size to force himself upright and head-butted Chester, who rolled off the big man and into the dirt. Both men lay on the ground, breathing hard and bleeding.

Kitty hurried over to Chester and Doc was right behind her, concerned for his friend's well-being.

Doc bent over his lanky friend, prone in the dirt. "Chester, are you all right? Can you see me? Can you hear me?"

Chester brought his right arm up and shielded his eyes from the sun. "I can see ya. I can hear ya, too. It's over, ain't it, Doc? The fight I mean, it's over."

Doc glanced at Cleon only to see that the big man had risen and wandered over to the trough, using a ladle to pour the cool but foul water over his head. "Yes, Chester, it's over. Can you get up?"

With Kitty on Chester's left side, Doc on his right, and Clem standing behind him, they all helped the tall man to his feet. "I'm plum swimmy-headed."

Doc patted his buddy's arm. "I know. Clem, help me get him upstairs."

Clem and several of the men from town assisted Chester up the stairs to Doc's office with Kitty close behind. They helped him to the examination table, where he perched precariously. Doc washed his hands and then used the cool water on his instrument table to wash the blood off Chester's face. He was proud of Chester for defending himself, finally realizing what the big man's taunting had cost his friend.

Doc examined Chester's face closely. His right eye was black and blue and swollen shut. His upper lip was bunged up and swollen and his bottom lip was split and bloodied. Doc got some salve from his medicine cabinet and dabbed it onto the man's face. Chester winced.

Chester spied the whiskey the physician used to sterilize his instruments. "You know, Doc, I could use some a that whiskey." He was emotionally and physically exhausted. He picked up the half-empty bottle and looked around for a glass.

"Chester, that's medicinal, put it down. I'm sure you can get a drink from Kitty when we're through here. Now sit still and let me look at your head. I want to be sure you don't have a concussion." Doc felt Chester's head in several places and looked into his eyes closely. "I know this hurts some. You'll be alright though. Hold still."

"Are your ears ringing?" He felt the top of Chester's head to see if there were any lumps.

"Not no more, Doc. I feel pretty good right now. Just tired is all." Chester could feel himself slump forward from fatigue.

Doc shook his head and grumbled. "I'm sure you feel good right now but you're gonna be sore tomorrow." He sighed and stepped back to wash his hands, then applied some more salve to Chester's wounds.

"I guess its a good thing that he hit you mostly in the head. He couldn't do a whole lot of damage to anything as hard as your head." Doc folded his arms across his chest and regarded the Marshal's assistant with admiration.

Kitty chuckled. "Is he okay, Doc?"

"Yes, thanks to the expertise of the town Physician, he'll be just fine." He nodded proudly, appreciating his own skill.

Kitty put her hand on Doc's shoulder and gave a little pat. "Thanks Doc." She turned her attention to the patient on the table. "Come on Chester, I'll buy you a drink. You, too, Doc."

Chester crawled off the table. "Thank you Miss Kitty, a drink sounds good right about now." He was sore and had no doubt he would be achy the next day but he was also very proud of himself. He had something today he had never done before – face down a bully.

Kitty took his arm. "You coming, Doc?"

Doc smiled and shook his head appreciatively. "Just let me clean up a little. I'll be right there."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

A Tale of Chester

Chapter 7

Kitty and Chester entered the bar to an after-fight crowd. The mood was boisterous. Men were slapping each other on the back and laughing, replaying the fight. When the crowd spied Chester at the door, they cheered.

"Come on over here, Chester! I wanna buy you a drink!"

Chester smiled cautiously and allowed himself to be pulled over to the bar where men stood two deep, waiting for their turn to celebrate with him. At several tables, customers rehashed the fight, embellishing for their own entertainment. Chester was beaming, thrilled to be acclaimed by the very people who had made him their sport the day before.

When Cleon entered the saloon, the crowd booed him loudly. The big man was surprised, he was not expecting any sort of hoopla at all. He had been in many fights but had never received such a reaction. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Standing head and shoulders above the crowd, he busied himself looking for Kitty and spied her. He waded through the crowd at the bar and found her pouring drinks for the celebrants.

She smiled when she saw him. "Whiskey, Cleon?" She poured a glass and slid it in front of him.

One of the townsmen pounded him on the back. "That was some fight! Ole Chester gave you a run for your money."

Cleon nodded but he felt confused. Chester had, indeed, given him a run for his money. Why was everyone so happy? He didn't understand. "Miss Kitty? Could I talk to you fer a bit?"

"Of course, Cleon. Grab that table over by the stairs while I get us something to drink." Kitty's eyes sparkled when she smiled at him and Cleon wondered if they were friends again. He hoped they were.

He left to claim the table and Kitty took a bottle of good whiskey and two glasses from behind the bar. She was in high spirits as she sashayed through the crowd to meet the big man at the table. He rose and held a chair for her.

"Thank you Cleon. Here, sit beside me." She was now accustomed to the smell of the hides he wore and she accepted it. She uncorked the bottle and poured a shot of whiskey in both glasses and offered one to him. He accepted it gratefully.

Before Cleon could begin, Doc entered the saloon and headed for the table near the stairs. When he realized Kitty was seated with Cleon, he hesitated but spying her friend, Kitty called him over. He took a seat and motioned for a beer which Clem brought him happily. Cleon eyed the new tablemate suspiciously.

Kitty gave Cleon one of her most engaging smiles. "Cleon, this is Doc Adams. He's a real good friend of mine. You can talk in front of him."

The giant hesitated for a moment but decided that if the older man was a friend of Miss Kitty's he couldn't be all bad. He would take a chance.

"Miss Kitty, there's something you got to tell me." His bushy brow furrowed and his gaze was intense.

Kitty placed her hand over his and squeezed gently, trying not to hurt the bruised fingers. "What's that?" She took a sip from her glass of whiskey.

"Why's ever'body so happy?" His black eyes were dark with confusion and the bruises on his face were beginning to be conspicuous. He felt lost as he looked around the saloon.

She saw the confusion in his eyes. "Ya know, people around here look for any kind of reason to celebrate but mostly they're proud of Chester. See, Cleon, you treated him rather badly and he stood up for himself. His friends are proud of him."

The giant seemed to shrink in size before her eyes. He gulped his shot of whiskey and poured another glass. "Do they think he won the fight?" His eyes darted around the room.

Doc interjected. "You know, it doesn't always matter who wins. Sometimes it's enough that a person does the right thing. Self-respect is important. When a man is made to feel less than a man, well that's a horrible thing. A man has to stand up for himself to feel like a man. When a man stands up for himself, then he's a winner regardless of the outcome of the fight."

Kitty patted the large forearm. "Don't you see, Cleon? It doesn't matter who won, he stood up for himself. You know, you wronged him the way people in the past have wronged you. He defended himself and his friends are proud of him."

Cleon thought for a moment, genuinely confused. "I wronged him, Miss Kitty? How did I wrong him?"

Kitty took a sip of whiskey. "I know Chester. He never wanted to fight with you. You pushed him into it. All those things you think he did to you, he didn't do. Chester doesn't have a mean bone in his body. You bullied him, Cleon. You made him fight you, he never wanted to." She took another sip of her drink.

The big man looked around the room at the celebratory crowd. They seemed to love Chester. Cleon felt envious. He had never had friends like that. "What you said, Miss Kitty, is that true? He weren't never pickin a fight with me?"

Kitty shook her head vehemently and her titian curls flounced. The big man at the table longed to reach out and caress those curls. Doc swiped his mustache and watched Cleon closely, not certain how he would take the explanation they had given him.

"No, Cleon, he was never picking a fight with you. Never." She glanced in Chester's direction and saw him looking at her and Doc, baffled as to why they were sitting with his opponent. Kitty beckoned him to the table.

Chester approached boldly and she motioned for him to take the seat across from her, next to Cleon, facing the batwing doors. He took his beer and sat down.

Kitty smiled broadly and squeezed Cleon's arm. "Cleon has something he wants to say to you, Chester."

The big man looked at Kitty incredulously. "I do?"

Kitty poured another shot of whiskey for him. "Yes, Cleon, you do." Her voice was firm, no nonsense.

The man covered in dusty hides and smelling of sweat, looked at Chester in an almost bashful manner. He took his rabbit skin hat off and held it to his chest to show his remorse. "I reckon I misunderstood ya. Miss Kitty and the Doc here say ya weren't never tryin to pick no fight with me. They say you's a nice person and I done ya wrong, made you less than a man. I been wronged in my life and I don't like it. Miss Kitty always tells the truth so I reckon I owe ya a sorry."

Kitty patted the top of Cleon's right hand to recognize a job well done.

"Chester? What do you have to say to Cleon?" She felt a bit like their mother and she chuckled inwardly. Men and boys, she wondered if there was really much of a difference.

The Marshal's Assistant felt momentary bewilderment. He squinted his eyes and stared at the big man who appeared repentant. What did he have to say to the bully? He thought for a bit. He looked at Kitty and she nodded her head in encouragement.

"I accept your apology." He downed the last of his beer and wondered what would happen next. This had certainly been a day of surprises.

The immense buffalo hunter seated at the table smiled at Chester for the first time. "Clem, bring us another bottle of whiskey and a glass for my new friend!"

Clem nodded to show he understood the order and brought the desired goods to the table, along with another beer for Doc. Kitty again popped the cork and poured for the new friends. Slowly, they began to talk and before long the big man was regaling Chester with tales of his hunts. Chester decided maybe he didn't dislike the big man after all. He thought he could let bygones be bygones. For his part, Cleon was eager to have a new friend, especially one that seemed well-regarded by Miss Kitty and his new-found friend, Doc. Kitty was enjoying the conversation at the table and it did her heart good to see Chester relaxed for the first time in several days. There was only one thing missing...

Kitty felt Matt's presence in the room before she saw him. She turned in her chair and her heart skipped a beat as he came toward her. He thought she was a vision as she stood to greet him. Her copper hair in perfect ringlets, her face painted just so, and her rose-colored satin gown clinging to the curves of her body. As he grew nearer to her he could smell the jasmine fragrance she wore, and it made him weak in the knees. He longed to hold her to him and tell how much he had missed her but there would be an opportunity for that later, when they were alone. He loved the smile she gave him because he knew she saved that smile only for him.

"Hello Kitty." He gently touched her right shoulder and inhaled the jasmine. It was a heady moment, for him to touch her after being away for so many days.

She smiled in return and felt a shiver at his touch. "Welcome home, Matt. Did you have a good trip?"

It was small talk that wouldn't call attention to them as a couple. "Yeah, it was all right."

She gestured to the chair next to Chester. "Join us, Matt. Clem, bring Matt a beer!"

Cleon jumped up and held her chair for her. Matt glared at him and Kitty quickly intervened. "Uh, Matt, this is Cleon Harvey. He's a buffalo hunter and he's been in Dodge for a few days. Cleon, this is Marshal Dillon."

Matt nodded in greeting. "Cleon. Welcome to Dodge." He sipped his beer and his eyes roamed around the folks gathered at the table.

It was then that Matt took a good look at Chester. His left eye was swollen nearly shut and he definitely had a heck of a shiner. His jaw was bruised and Matt thought he must have some difficulty talking because of it. Chester had a huge lump on his forehead where Cleon had given him a head-butt. His upper lip was swollen and his lower lip was split and there were traces of blood. Chester's knuckles were bruised, swollen, and a little bloodied. Matt shook his head in disbelief.

He glanced at Cleon and realized the "other guy" didn't look too good either. Cleon's nose was clearly broken and, like Chester, he had large lump on his forehead. The way the big man's tongue kept finding his front tooth, Matt wondered if the tooth was loose. The bottom lip was swollen. His left eye was black and blue. Like Chester, his knuckles were bruised, swollen, and bloodied. Clearly there had been a fight and it had been recent. He wondered to himself what the story was; it must be good.

Matt surveyed the happy little group at the table, two of them quite bunged up. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

The other four seated at the table smiled at each other and replied in unision. "Nothing at all."

The End


End file.
